


Enemies With Benefits

by LokoteiBex



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Blanket Fic, Character Bleed, F/M, First Kiss, Hormonal Teenagers, Mild Blood, what was i thinking when i wrote this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25003063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokoteiBex/pseuds/LokoteiBex
Summary: While facing a blizzard in the North Pole, Katara and Zuko seek shelter in the same cave.
Relationships: Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84





	Enemies With Benefits

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote and posted this fic on ff.net and deviantART in 2006 (so around the time of the end of Book 1, but I'm pretty sure I wrote it before the S1 finale), but with ATLA's revival, I decided to upload it here as well. This is unaltered from its original format, so there are some incorrect assumptions about what other characters who we hadn't met properly would be like. Please note that I do not now nor have I ever shipped Zutara. My goal in writing this fic was to be so tongue-in-cheek cliche that it was kind of mocking all the tropes. But then it had to go and turn out good. (For a limited definition of "good." XD)
> 
> Enjoy!

Katara was lost. The blizzard that had separated her from Sokka and Aang still raged around her. She wasn’t afraid that she’d never see them again, nor did she fear for their safety. She and Sokka were raised in this environment, albeit on the other side of the world, and the boys were with Appa. The flying bison would keep them warm, or better yet, take them above the storm. As for never seeing them again, she hadn’t been permanently separated from her traveling companions yet, and saw no reason why it should be any different this time.

Provided she managed to find shelter.

Being raised in what to others would appear to be a frozen wasteland, she had survival skills on the tundra, but she was also acutely aware of the dangers of braving a blizzard solo.

She tightened her fur-lined hood around her face so that only her eyes showed and continued her pressing search for some kind of refuge. A cave, a hill, even a rock would do, if it reduced the winds. The sun would set soon and she’d freeze to death for sure then if she couldn’t find any protection.

Her vision blurred with sudden fatigue as the afternoon of struggling through howling winds and blinding snow caught up to her, and she stumbled. She could barely hear the crunch of the snow as her knees and hands impacted over the screaming of the air. Desperately, she looked around from her new vantage point.

_There!_

Not too far away, up a slight incline, she could see a change in the color and texture of the landscape. It was her only chance. Struggling, Katara got to her feet and made her way toward the new terrain.

*****

Zuko watched the glowing embers of his fire blink out and die, leaving him in blackness. It seemed true in both the literal and metaphoric sense. All hope for his future prospects seemed lost. As he sat, huddled in an icy cave with only a single blanket to keep him warm against the raging snowstorm outside, he couldn’t help but reflect, yet again, on the turn his life had taken.

Once a mighty prince, he had spent the last several months trying to capture the Avatar to regain his place at his father’s side, to earn back his respect. Or possibly, and Zuko loathed to think this, earn it for the first time. He just had to open his father’s eyes. He was nothing without the man’s approval. His power, his family, everything could be lost at a word from Lord Ozai, and he was falling farther and farther from favor.

His self-depreciating mental spiral was interrupted when a silhouette filled the mouth of the cave.

“Uncle?” Zuko asked, looking up. He had left Iroh behind earlier that day, while storming off in a fit of temper. But it wouldn’t surprise Zuko to find the old man had braved a storm to continue following him.

What he saw instead made his blood rise. The girl – the Waterbender – who traveled with the Avatar was standing at the entrance, removing her hood. Obviously, her eyes needed to adjust to the gloom, as she hadn’t spotted him yet. Either that or she was an unobservant oaf, but that didn’t seem her type. “Unobservant oaf” much better described her brother.

Zuko sat silently and watched her. He made no movement and breathed silently. She entered the cave, removing her mittens, turning her head this way and that. Her arms were outstretched a little, implying that she still couldn’t see very far. Her movements were stiff and forced, as if she was extremely tired and was making herself check the safety of the cave before collapsing. Well, it wasn’t safe. Not for her. Zuko would not hesitate to dispatch her as soon as she fell asleep. She posed one of the biggest obstacles between himself and the Avatar, and the sooner he was done with her, the better.

The girl began to gather some dead wood at the back of the cave. It seemed she intended to make a fire as Zuko had. He smirked in silence. Oh, she could have a fire. He would give her as much fire as she wanted, and in her state of exhaustion, she’d not be able to defend herself. Not this time.

Katara had the sensation of being watched. Alarm gongs rang in her head, but she wrote them off as delusions of her tiredness. It was just a cave. More than that, it was her literal shelter from the storm. Maybe an animal was in here, hiding from the severe weather. Well, she knew from experience at home that animals would let you be if you were all huddled together to stay warm.

A soft rustling of fabric behind her made her freeze. An animal she could handle, but another person?

 _It’s just a villager taking shelter, like me,_ she thought. _No big deal. I’ll just be nice and we’ll share this cave until the blizzard ends._ She forced herself into a bright smile and turned around.

The firewood fell from her arms.

Zuko cursed himself for moving the blanket. The slight noise had alerted her, and the element of surprise was lost.

“Zuko!” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“The same as you, I expect,” he replied coolly, glaring. He rose, and the blanket slid the rest of the way off him.

She visibly tensed, her blue eyes flashing. “I’m warning you!” she spat, but he wouldn’t let her finish her pathetic threat.

“You’re in no condition to fight me, little girl. I can see how exhausted you are. You’re practically asleep on your feet as it is.”

“I have a name, you know!” she snarled, hands clenching defensively.

“I don’t care!”

He expected her to spit her name at him, or attack him, or something. She could easily encase him in a block of ice here. He’d heard that death by freezing was painful. He probably deserved it.

He did not expect her to fall to her knees, budding tears sliding down her cheeks.

“I can’t fight you,” she whimpered. “You’re right. I’m too tired.”

He stopped. Slowly, he lowered his guard. This was the last thing he thought she’d do. She wasn’t the sort to just lie down and give up. There was something wrong here. It unnerved him.

He had never bothered to really look at her before. Certainly, he’d studied her to make fighting her Waterbending easier, but he had never absorbed her face. Boyish. Plain. The face of a peasant. But in the soft light of the shadowed cave, her eyes… there was something beautiful about the sky blue eyes, shining with tears out of her dusky face.

“Pathetic!” Zuko spat. “Weak!” He didn’t know if he was speaking to her or himself. He reached down and gathered up the blanket he’d been wearing and threw it at her. “Here! Take it!”

Her look was so puzzled it would have made him laugh if he were a softer man. “I won’t kill you tonight, girl. There is no honor in killing someone who can’t even fight back.”

She looked distrustful. He didn’t blame her. But it hurt nonetheless. It riled him that she thought of him as anything but honorable.

“But, you’ve killed thousands of innocent people who couldn’t fight back,” she said, acid in her voice. Her practical side took over, and she wrapped the blanket around herself as she spoke.

“No I haven’t!” he protested.

“Well,” she hesitated before rallying a reply, “the Fire Nation has! You can’t deny that!”

“I am not the Fire Nation! I am not responsible for everything the Fire Nation does! Don’t go around assuming that just because Lord Ozai commands the armies to attack that I have anything to do with it!”

Katara had to admit, she felt a little foolish now. She saw Zuko’s look grow distant. He didn’t seem to see her anymore. She frowned. She still didn’t trust him, but there was something going on in his head. He didn’t seem to have the heart to kill her here, even though she was at his mercy. In a way, she almost felt bad for him. What could drive someone to show such wanton cruelty? She didn’t understand the Fire Nation at all.

She studied him closely for the first time. Seeing around his burn scar, she saw a very handsome face that was made ugly by twisting hatred and betrayal. His golden eyes were cruel, and made his pale complexion seem paler by comparison. He looked tortured both outside and in, and again, she felt the wave of pity, and relaxed a little. Then, something occurred to her.

“Katara,” she said. Her voice seemed to snap him out of whatever inner sanctum he’d locked himself into.

“What?” he asked slowly.

“My name is Katara. Don’t call me ‘girl.’ I’m not a girl anymore.”

A quiet “humph” was the only reply. She made a face and lay down, wrapped in the blanket. The horizontal position alone began to send her off to sleep, despite the wary tension she felt from being in Zuko’s presence, with her back to him nonetheless. She was warmer, and lying down. The blizzard was howling its wicked heart out outside, and she was safe and dry. Well, relatively safe.

Somewhere in the back of her head, she heard Zuko blow on his hands.

 _He must be cold,_ she thought. It was several moments before what that meant reached the surface of her groggy mind and pulled her forcefully out of sleep. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was curled up, leaning against a cold stone wall and gazing out the cave entrance without so much as a coat on.

“What will you use?” she asked.

Again, his response seemed slow, as if his mind had been thousands of miles away. “What?” he asked for the second time.

“You’re obviously very cold,” she said matter-of-factly. “What are you going to use to stay warm? Is this your only blanket?”

“Yes,” he replied brusquely.

She didn’t like this. She knew the very best way to stay warm in the freezing cold when you had nothing else was sharing body heat. She didn’t want his death on her hands. She’d never killed anyone. Her Waterbending was potentially lethal, but she never took it that far. She knew what she had to do, had to offer, but she was simply repulsed by the idea. She was afraid of Zuko, and, more to the point, she despised him. She hated everything he stood for and everything he put people through. But, it was her duty, as a good person.

“You can share this one with me, if you like,” she said quietly, almost not wanting him to hear.

She was both gratified and angered to see him look as disgusted as she felt. It’s not like she was some kind of hideous monster!

“Now see here!” she snapped. “This is a life-saving maneuver! Where I come from, it gets cold like this every year, and we’re taught from tiny children how to survive in it! It’s not like I’m asking you to sleep with me!”

The force of her hand clapping over her mouth made her face hurt, and she could feel the hot blush roasting her from forehead to shoulders. And what was worse, Zuko smirked! Her heart hammered against her chest, threatening to bring the cave down on their heads from sheer volume.

Zuko got up and began to walk toward her. His movements were slow, determined. It was as though he had something dark and sinister in mind. She was suddenly very, very afraid of him. She felt small and vulnerable, and her fatigue jumped to the forefront of her mind. He was stronger than her, more powerful. If he tried to force her to do… anything, she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

He was right in front of her, towering over her. She refused to back down, meeting his smirk with a death glare. She wouldn’t show any weakness whatsoever. He lowered himself and heel-sat in front of her. They were a breath apart.

“You couldn’t handle a man like me, even if you could catch one… _little girl._ ”

_Slap!_

Zuko reeled from the towering inferno of rage he had ignited in Katara. She was on her feet, and he lay prone, his hand covering his burn-scarred cheek where her palm had connected, her full fury looming over him.

“How dare you, _how dare you_ speak about me that way!” she demanded. “You have no concept of respect or compassion! It’s no wonder all your ‘subjects’ hate you so much! You’re cruel and evil, and you carry out the cruel and evil orders of a cruel and evil man! And _quit calling me a girl!_ You can’t be more than a few years older than me!”

Zuko was at a loss! He could feel his palms itching, the flames begging to be brought forth. He wanted to burn her where she stood for her impudence. She struck him! And not in the fashion of a warrior, but in the fashion of a woman! The fire burned deep inside him, pushing at him, whispering like a seductress in his ear. And yet, he suppressed it, choked it down, forced it to lie quietly. This was fascinating and infuriating. Never had anyone spoken to him thus. Even his uncle usually used a calm, reasonable tone, and backed down if Zuko showed stubbornness. His sister mocked and scorned him, but was not given to blind rage. He knew, he _knew_ this girl, this… Katara was afraid of him, yet her fear stepped aside for her wrath and brought out a beast within. A beautiful beast.

Zuko saw an opening. He could deflate her and save himself face, and make this night bearable. He could make her writhe in the discomfort he was feeling at this moment.

“ _Have_ you become a woman, then?” he asked.

Bingo.

She stopped raging and very abruptly sat down again, the blush returning to her face, staining her dark skin pink. She was pretty when she blushed. The fire within laughed at him.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she said, her voice cracking with embarrassment, “but yes, I have.” She pulled the blanket over her shoulders and head and hunched underneath it like a wounded animal.

“You look tired,” Zuko smirked. He was reveling in the turned tables. “Don’t stay awake on my account.”

“You haven’t actually given me an answer, yet.”

“Answer to what?”

“Do you want to share the blanket?” she asked, looking away. Zuko started. She really must be tired if it hadn’t occurred to her that he could just make a fire to keep warm. He could see her blush even from within the depths of the shadows of the blanket. The light was fading fast, and the air in the cave was frigid. The internal fire lapped at him gently, made him warm and tingly. He wasn’t accustomed to the sensation.

“Fine,” he finally said after a long silence, immediately wondering why he’d said it.

She slowly unwrapped the blanket from around herself, almost as if hesitating, then offered a side to him.

“So… what, we just lay here next to one another?”

Katara was scarlet. “It works best if…”

“If…?” Zuko prompted.

“Iffernkkd.”

“I don’t believe I caught that.”

“Skin to… um… skin contact works the best for heat transfers. It would help if we were laying on something, too. Otherwise, the rock is just going to steal our body heat from us.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“No!” It was nearly a shriek. “No, I’m not okay with this! Not at all! But I’m not going to let you freeze to death just because you did the decent thing for once in your life and let me have your only blanket! Why do you have a blanket and not a coat, anyway!”

“You grab what you grab when you’re running,” was his only reply.

“Okay, we can do this logically,” she said, as much to herself as him. “I’ve got several layers on. I can peel off a few to make some ground cover and still leave some on to stay modest.”

“Do you always blush this much?”

“Shut up!”

Zuko grinned. It was a kinder smile than usual, though by no means nice.

“And what about you? You can’t sleep in that armor and your robe underneath is long. Do you have anything under that so you can take it off?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said as he began to unstrap his armor. He felt odd when he wasn’t wearing it. It was a comforting weight on his shoulders and hips. He removed his robe as Katara arranged her parka and outer robe on the ground.

She was by no means physically mature, but her adult body was beginning to take shape. The dark blue inner robe she wore accentuated her blossoming curves better than her pale blue outer robe, and Zuko suddenly felt like standing outside the cave dressed as he was – in his trousers and boots.

She reached back towards him without taking her eyes off the makeshift bedding.

“Your robe,” she commanded. “Give it here.”

He passed it down without a word and watched her spread it with everything else.

“And this is going to work?” he asked.

“Better than anything you’d have come up with,” she replied, but there was the lilt of a tease in her voice. She was visibly more relaxed when working. Beaming, she looked back at him, and her smile gradually faded.

The last of the meager light created a halo around Zuko, and his pale skin became bronzed. He was a sight to behold, intimidating but inviting. She wanted to touch his bare chest, and she wasn’t sure why.

Gran Gran had warned her about this.

_You are a woman now, Katara. Boys are going to be harder to play with and harder to be around, but you’re going to want to be around them, regardless. You’ll feel nervous and overheated, and you’re going to want to watch them do things, use their muscles. Everything has changed for you, little one._

She hadn’t understood it much until now. The only boy her age back home was Sokka, and she knew she wasn’t going to feel that way about her own brother. Aang was another story altogether. She knew he had a crush on her, would do just about anything to please her, but she thought of him as the little brother she never had. But Zuko, with the light surrounding him, as if he, himself, were aflame, was terribly appealing.

“I… um… it’s ready, Zuko,” she stammered, and immediately lay down and rolled on her side, facing the wall. Zuko followed suit, facing the open cave. Back to back, a hand span apart, they were silent for several minutes. Zuko was horribly uncomfortable on the rocky, uneven cave floor, but he wasn’t about to speak his complaints to her.

He could feel her presence in the dark behind him, and imagined the gentle curve of her lithe body. More importantly, though, he could feel her shaking, ever so slightly.

“Aren’t you warm enough?” he asked gruffly.

“I think so,” she replied. He could hear the quaver in her voice. He sighed and rolled over, facing her. His chest was now a finger width from her back, and his face was full of her hair. It was silky and smelled fresh and sweet. He nearly asked her what she washed it with, but bit his tongue back.

“Come here,” he said, curtly. “I won’t hurt you.” And, trembling more than he acknowledged, he draped an arm over her.

Katara almost screamed and struggled, but when Zuko failed to tighten his grip and just let his arm rest like a comforting weight over her she relaxed. The gap closed.

“Oh!” she breathed. “You’re hot! That is… you’re warm. I mean, you give off heat.” She was glad for the darkness, which hid her face. Zuko’s arm slid to her waist and his grip tightened, ever so slightly. It was pleasant. She could feel his breath on her neck. That was more pleasant, and made her feel tingly. She suddenly felt very weak in his arms, almost hypnotized. She felt as though she would do anything he asked her to right now, so long as it didn’t require her to get out of the ever-warming bed, out of his grasp.

“Haven’t you ever been held by a man like this before?” he asked, and she could hear the mockery in his voice. No, not mockery. Softer than mockery. Was he teasing her? Was he actually making a joke?

“No. And I can only assume you’ve had access to your father’s concubines,” she replied, perhaps a little more sharply than was strictly necessary.

Zuko’s silence told her nothing. Was he proud? Embarrassed? Angry? Finally, he spoke.

“No. I’ve never held anyone like this.” His voice was soft and distant, and, if only for just that instant, Katara trusted him. She heard him breathe deeply, and his hot breath, exhaled like a sigh, tickled her ear. She nearly melted.

There was a kind of satisfaction in flirting with her. She wasn’t squirming, but she was simply glowing with embarrassment. Every word she said, the way her body was tensed, the way she was hesitantly relaxing. He could feel the heat of her flush through the thin fabric of her inner robe. Katara didn’t know anything about physical desire, and Zuko was teaching her from a distance. A very close distance. It was pleasing, though. He liked the feel of her body pressed against his, and the smell of her hair, and the softness of her skin. It was easy to distance himself emotionally from her, as he had distanced himself emotionally from everyone else. This was just pleasure. This was making the best of a bad situation. This was laughing at his enemy’s weakness, egging on her confusion.

He leaned in to inhale the sweet smell of her hair again, and his lips brushed against the edge of her ear. The sensation was like being hit with his sister’s lightning, but less painful. A jolt of… something ran through him from his lips to his solar plexus. The sudden, unexpected contact excited him, and he heard her gasp as well. The fire crackled within him, heating him along the path the lightning had taken moments before.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he pulled away.

Katara shifted in his arms slightly and turned her head to look up at him. She could just make out the silhouette of his face, a lighter shade of black in the darkness. There was the curve of his forehead, the arch of his nose, the contour of his lips.

His lips.

She stared, trying to make out his face better. She focused on those lips, and suddenly felt hungry, despite the tenseness she felt in her stomach. She wasn’t sure she liked it. It was an amazing feeling, but she didn’t want to be feeling it for Zuko.

She forced her mind to other things. Ignore his lips. Sure, focus on his face, but ignore his lips.

“Zuko?” she asked softly.

“Yes?”

“Can I… touch your scar?”

What? What was that all about? Katara scolded herself for the impulsive question. How rude of her! But, he didn’t try to hide the scar, so he must not be ashamed of it. She’d heard legends of men who were horribly scarred and wore masks for the rest of their lives to hide behind. But not Zuko. She wondered if he had a sort of pride in the wound.

Zuko’s mouth twitched. He didn’t like the idea of her hands on his face. Body to body was one thing, but touching his face was threatening in a way. Still, she was weak, weaker than usual, and at his mercy. What harm could she do him? He had already promised not to hurt her for the night, and she didn’t seem about to attack.

“If you want,” he replied. He loosened his grip on her so she could roll over and face him.

Her hand was cool, and much smoother than he thought a peasant’s hands would be. Her skin was soft, and had the same pleasant smell of her hair, but fainter. He closed his eyes as her fingertips explored the hills and dales of his scar, tracing the outline of his eye. Her thumb followed the path around his left eye several times as her fingertips brushed the deformed ridge of his ear.

He felt strangely weak and vulnerable right now. It sat in his stomach like a lump, and made him uncomfortable, as if it were her eyes doing the scrutinizing and not her hand. He had to make it stop. He’d scream if he couldn’t make it stop.

And then, her lips were on his.

His first reaction as a prince was to push this forward peasant whelp away from his royal person. His first reaction as a man was to hold this catty creature closer and not let her go. The memory of the lightning running through him not long before was very insistent, and the man won over the prince. The fire engulfed him.

The kiss surprised Katara almost as much as it did Zuko. She didn’t know what had come over her. She was running on impulse, which was very unlike her, and all her internal signals were crossed and recrossed until she was left with nothing but a knot of befuddlement. And when he held her close and returned the kiss with a fierce passion, she didn’t know what to do. She was afraid and excited. Her head was light and her heart was pounding. He was her enemy! He’d tried to kill her so many times! And this was wonderful! Exhilarating! Her body pulsed in time with her thudding heartbeat.

Was this what all kisses felt like? Like thunder and earthquakes and the world was coming to an end, but you were safely floating away on a cloud? Katara gently pulled away.

“Zuko,” she said, dropping her gaze, “this is…” But she couldn’t finish her thought. What was she trying to say? That this was wrong? What was wrong about it? It was harmless. It was only a kiss. A single kiss meant nothing. Zuko was breathing hard, and that bothered her.

“I’m not asking you for anything,” he said, as if reading her mind. “I didn’t even ask you for that. That was your idea.”

“It seemed… like the right thing to do, at the time,” Katara lamely replied.

“Isn’t everything we do here right at the time?” he asked, not unkindly. “By all rights, by all common sense, one of us should be dead by now. But, here we are.”

Katara suddenly felt like she had very little clothes on, though she had hardly any bare skin from shoulder to toe.

“Besides,” the prince continued, cupping the back of her head, “I was enjoying myself. Weren’t you?”

The Waterbender bit her lip and nodded. To be honest with herself, it had been thrilling. “Yes,” she said meekly.

“Well then, how about we add to the deal? We don’t have to remove any more clothing than what we already have. Would that make you more comfortable?”

“I think it would,” Katara replied.

“Good.”

Zuko hungrily swooped in and claimed her mouth as his own again. Her muffled squeak of surprise made him smile inwardly, but he noted she didn’t try to pull away again. She was open, receptive to him, so he allowed his tongue to explore hers. He felt her hesitate at first, then dive in with gusto.

She seemed to crave knowledge, a “how to” about all around her, and this was no different. He’d heard palace girls giggle behind fans about learning how to kiss boys, but they at least had dolls, guards and each other to practice on. Katara had her brother, a child monk and a flying bison, none of which seemed like a good prospect.

He deepened the kiss and let his hand trail down her side, following her body line to her hip. Again, the familiar tense and relaxation he was beginning to grow accustomed to.

“I won’t hurt you,” he reminded her in a husky whisper, then leaned in to caress her neck with his lips. She sighed and tilted her head, exposing her neck to him.

 _Submission._ This was the most thrilling of moments for him, for he found pleasure in the control he felt over her. The fire sang. The fire asked for blood. The fire called for teeth to throat. He nipped softly. The sound Katara made reminded him of a kitten. He nipped again and sucked gently, trailing his fingertips up and down her abdomen. He felt her belly tighten and flutter under his touch.

“Oh,” she murmured, and her fingers found his neck. She ran her nails up the back of his neck to his scalp. He’d been unable to shave his head over the past several days, and the sensation of her gently scratching the stubble was indescribable. He found his muscles involuntarily relaxing and he released his grip on her neck. Her touch was a hypnotic song, making him do whatever she commanded.

“Spellbinder,” he murmured. His head sunk down and he leaned on her shoulder. This was comfortable. The softness of her chest and the gentle rise and fall of her breathing began to lull him to sleep.

“Zuko?” she asked shyly.

“Mmm?”

“Can I… I mean we…” she trailed off. She felt very strange asking to be kissed again. Wasn’t it the sort of thing that was just supposed to happen? The first two kisses had just happened, hadn’t they? Then again, this wasn’t romance. After tonight, she doubted she’d have any reason to be this… cordial with him again. So, why waste the night, right? But didn’t this make her a little like a concubine? She should stop. She should stop now before it went too far. Before she did something she regretted.

But what would make her regret it? It was practice for her future husband, right? It was seeing things from Sokka’s point of view. It was finding a strand of goodness in a man she thought had no conscience.

Zuko stirred and sat up a bit, taking his weight off her.

“Did you want something?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered in nearly a whisper. She tried to give him what Sokka described as “bedroom eyes” before realizing that he probably couldn’t see her face very well anyway. He was navigating as much by touch as she was. Instead, she pressed herself against his warm body.

“More,” she requested.

As their tongues entwined again, her hands found his bare chest and she ran her fingers in random swirls all over it. His muscles were tempered like steel, and something about the way they felt when they flexed made her want this more. Her questing hands reached his shoulders and came across a hard knot.

“Oh, Zuko,” she said with some concern. “Let me get that for you.”

“What?” he replied ineloquently, a touch of disappointment in his voice. “What are you doing?”

Katara rose, noting the freezing air and how it felt almost refreshing against her heated skin. She moved behind Zuko, trailing her fingers along his arm and back, then knelt and began to dig into his stiff shoulders with the heels of her hands. He hissed, and as he sharply drew air in, and she could feel him tense up more.

“None of that,” she scolded. “It’ll only make my job harder. Honestly, Zuko, you can’t relax very often if your shoulders are this knotted.”

“I can’t relax at all,” he replied darkly. “If I let my guard down, even for an instant, I’ll be killed by someone who wants me out of the way.”

“What about right now?” she asked quietly. Her hands paused as she spoke. “You’ve said more than once tonight that you won’t hurt me. I won’t hurt you either, Zuko.” Slowly, she resumed the massage.

The prince was silent. She could feel his muscles tense and relax as he clenched and unclenched his hands. Whatever inner struggle he was having, she was not privy to, and a part of her didn’t want to be. He was still a frightening character, despite the fact that she had, both figuratively and literally, gotten his armor off. She had witnessed his temper and knew it was poorly under control. In fact, she was somewhat surprised he had yet to loose it this evening. It began to amaze her than she’d gotten away with striking him. She shivered slightly, once again aware of the frosty temperature.

Suddenly he relaxed. “Thank you,” he said, almost grudgingly.

“You’re… welcome,” she replied hesitantly. What exactly was he thanking her for?

“The massage. It’s helping.”

“Oh! You’re welcome!” she said again, with more feeling. And then, his hand was on her wrist.

“I thought you wanted more.” His voice was wolfish, and Katara’s heart fluttered in response. He pulled, a little roughly, and she willingly followed, coming back to the warmth of his lap and the blanket. “I let you stay out there too long. Now I’m going to have to warm you up again.” His lips caressed the small bit of exposed skin just below her neck

She moaned. She didn’t mean to, but it escaped her lips.

“Like that, do you?” She could hear the grin.

When Katara pulled away again, Zuko was confused and a little angry. Why couldn’t women ever just make up their minds about what they wanted?

“What’s wrong now?” he demanded crossly.

“Well, partly, your tone of voice,” she admonished. “But mostly, I’m getting the impression you think I’m doing this for _your_ sake, for _your_ amusement! Well, let me tell you something, you’re not _my_ prince, and no matter how little you think of me, I don’t bow to your whim! What kind of girl do you think I am that you can talk to me that way! You didn’t find me in some random brothel, and I won’t be treated like you did! Do you understand me, Zuko!”

It was like the slap all over again, but this time, he’d been annoyed to start. The rebound was easier than the recoil. The fire pushed him from within.

“You _dare_ to address me by name!” he roared. “A filthy peasant girl like you, who looks me in the eye and says my name in so familiar a way! We are not friends, and you are not my equal! Learn your place!”

The pain blossomed from his nose and spread across his face so quickly he had no time to react but to cry out. Curse this darkness! He’d have seen the swing coming if he could see at all, and he’d have been able to catch her fist! He tenderly felt his nose. Bleeding, but not broken. The whelp! The insufferable little vixen! How dare she! He should just burn her now and be done with this farce! Why he was putting up with her, he couldn’t begin to comprehend. He should just send her back out into the snow and let her find her own way! This was his cave! With her gone, he could make a fire again and just sleep the rest of the night!

The rage bubbled and boiled in his heart, licked by the flames. All it would take was his temper lost, and she’d be scampering for the safety of the storm.

And then, he heard the sobbing. Almost immediately, the guilt set in. He could never stand to hear a woman cry. It reminded him too much of his mother, of his last moments with her. He tried to hold onto the anger, let it fuel him, but to no avail.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, subdued. He wiped at the blood on his face. It felt odd, the hot, thick liquid pouring over his chilled mouth.

“Because I’m a fool,” she wept. “I knew not to trust you, but I did, anyway.”

He heard movement in the darkness, the rustling of heavy fabric.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting my things. I’ll just go and find my own cave. There’s got to be another one in the area.”

“You can’t!” his insistence surprised even him. “You’ll get lost in the dark and freeze!”

“What do you care? We’re not friends, right? You shouldn’t worry about me for another moment.”

“Who’s worried?” he shot back. He realized it was a stupid thing to say. It sounded childish even in his own ears. He sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

Katara grew quiet. The rustling stopped. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, couldn’t see her face to know what she was feeling. It was frustrating. Zuko suddenly realized how much he’d hate to be blind.

“I feel very sorry for any wife you may take in the future,” she finally said softly. “You are a confusing, confused man, and you have no respect for women. You’re going to end up torturing her with your mind games and your demands. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“You misunderstand me,” he said, so quietly he wasn’t sure she’d heard.

Abruptly, he heard her lay down again. The cavern unexpectedly seemed much colder, the silence deafening. He could almost hear the whisper of the falling snow, and he suddenly realized that the howling winds had stopped. He rose and made his way, mostly by feel, to the mouth of the cave.

Outside, it was only slightly lighter than in the cave, and the snow was falling extremely fast. Had it been warmer, it would have been pouring rain. Zuko held out his hand and let the snow pile up in his palm. The frosty air was refreshing against his throbbing nose, and he just closed his eyes and felt the snowflakes fly around him. Slowly, he let his mind go, and just felt.

Katara listened to Zuko leave. She wondered how far he’d wander, and hoped he’d be able to find his way back. She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. She remembered how tired she’d been when she got here, and wondered why it wasn’t so, now, especially considering the gamut of emotions she’d run through that night.

She tossed a few times, unable to get comfortable. The bed seemed cold and empty without him there to help warm it. Her eyes hurt. Her mouth was dry. She was suddenly quite thirsty, and got up to eat a handful of snow.

She found Zuko not far from the cave mouth. He was standing very quietly, arms out a little from his body, palms up, face turned to the sky and the heavily falling snow. He seemed to glow in what little light there was. His raven black topknot swayed gently with his breathing, but other than that, there was no noticeable movement. She just stood and watched. Was this his meditation? Was he relatively unfamiliar with the kinder side of snowfall?

He looked so peaceful out here. She’d let him be. Quietly, she turned, scooped up some snow and took a step to reenter the cave.

“Katara?”

She froze. She’d told him her name what seemed like hours ago, but this was the first time he’d used it. She looked over her shoulder and immediately regretted it. From their respective positions before, she hadn’t been able to see the damage she’d done to his face. A darkening bruise was shadowing the undersides of his eyes, and dried blood stuck to him from nose to mouth. Similarly, thick blood still oozed slightly. It was a sight to behold, and not a pleasant one, and something told her she was glad she couldn’t see it in straight daylight. The snow fell from her mittened hands.

“Oh, Zuko, I’m so sorry!” she said, covering her mouth with the shock. “I didn’t mean to hit you so hard! I didn’t _mean_ to hit you at all!”

Zuko gingerly touched his face. It was hot, and his nose was achy and stuffed, probably with clotted blood. “Yes, you did,” he replied, “but I guess I can’t blame you.”

“Sit at the mouth of the cave, and I’ll see what I can do to fix it,” she said. “That is, if you want my help.”

He hesitated. The thought of her hands near his face again… this would be the fourth time he’d allowed it tonight, and he still wasn’t exactly comfortable with it. He looked at her, standing near the entrance to the cave looking anxious. She only wanted to help. She’d always only wanted to help. He nodded once and she broke into an apologetic smile.

She kneeled in the snow, biting her lip. “I hope I’ve got enough energy for this,” she confessed. “Healing is a kind of Waterbending. I can’t possibly make it worse, though!”

“That’s very reassuring, thanks,” he rolled his eyes.

“I _could_ just let you put up with it, you know,” she replied, eyes narrowed slightly but smile still in place.

“So, why don’t you?”

She paused, only for a moment. “Because I feel bad. I lost control of myself, and I’ve never hit anyone that hard with my bare hands. It’s the least I can do to make it up to you.”

Their eyes met briefly, and she was the first to look away. She gathered a fresh mittenful of snow and closed her other hand over it, then put her mouth to her hands and began to breathe into them. Before too long, she had slush instead of snow, and she offered it to Zuko.

“Here,” she said, “to wash your face with. It’ll be really cold, but it’s the best I can do on short notice.”

He took the numbing half-liquid from her and delicately dabbed at his face, wiping away the dried blood and cooling his nose. He looked up at the sound of tearing fabric, and watched as she shortened the corner of her inner robe by about a hand span, square. She handed this to him as well.

“For the tougher spots,” she said, “and to catch the blood still dripping from your nose. We should stop the bleeding before I even attempt to heal you.”

Zuko retraced his footprints with his eyes. Every few steps, there was a splash of blood on the snow. He hadn’t even noticed at the time. Gently, he wiped the remaining blood away, then held the cloth tightly against his nostrils. He’d always been taught to pinch to bridge of his nose to stop the blood flow, but couldn’t bear the thought right now. He tipped his head back again.

“Don’t do that! All the blood will run down your throat if you do, and then you’ll end up with an upset stomach!”

He regarded her carefully. “Whad do you brobose, den?” he asked, and almost laughed at the sound of his voice. Almost.

Katara giggled. “Tilt it forward,” she suggested.

Once the bleeding had stopped and Zuko was cleaned up, Katara had him lie down.

“I don’t know how well this will work,” she reminded him. “I’m a novice, and I’m still pretty weak in general. But I’ll do the best I can.”

He nodded and closed his eyes, then she did, too. In her mind’s eye, she pictured the form of his face. Ignoring most of the features, she focused on the center, on his nose and eyes. She held her hands over his face then, and reached out to the water in his body. Gently, hesitantly, she moved it away from the affected area, reducing the swelling and pulling the bruising back. She cycled the blood, circulating it away from his nose and eyes, and getting some extra movement in his ears and lips for good measure.

When she felt there was nothing else she could do, she hesitantly opened one eye a crack. She was actually surprised with the significance of the job she’d done.

“Well, there you are,” she said. “That’s as good as it’s going to get.”

Zuko cautiously touched is face, then touched it again.

“It’s still a little tender, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was.”

“It should be completely better by morning, and if it’s not, I’ll try again,” she replied. “And now,” she stood, “I think it’s time to go to bed. To sleep, this time.”

They made their way back to the makeshift bed and lay down, back to back as before, and before long, they were both lulled into an exhausted slumber.

*****

Zuko woke to the sound of footsteps and a slight chill. Mumbling unintelligibly, he reached out behind him. Katara wasn’t there. He reached in front of him. She wasn’t there, either. Blearily, he opened his eyes and squinted at the bright light filling the cave.

“Hello, sleepyhead!” Katara’s cheery voice resonated. Zuko groaned and rubbed his face. No pain. He sat up slowly and looked around.

“Is it morning?” he asked.

“Either that or there’s a very bright fire outside the cave,” the Waterbender joked. “Oh, wait! There is! It’s called the sun!”

He looked at her. She was fully dressed again. Her parka hung open as she bustled about the cave. He looked down. He was laying on his own robe with the blanket on top of himself.

“Are you going already?” he asked. Katara nodded.

“I thought I’d get an early start looking for Sokka and Aang.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, then continued. “You know, I was thinking… I could try to heal your scar, if you want.”

Zuko felt his face go slack. He reached up and touched the scar. If he could be rid of it, this mark, the proof that he’d failed his father, he might actually find reason to smile again. But then, if she could wipe it from his face, everyone would know he’d spent the night with someone. If questions were asked, he didn’t know how well he’d be able to dodge them. And surely, her brother and the Avatar would notice the change, and she was such an honest girl, she wouldn’t be able to hide the truth from them for long.

“You’d better not. I mean, how would the Avatar and your brother react to finding out about last night?”

“I honestly don’t think Aang would mind,” she said wryly. “I mean, any more than he’d mind if it were anyone at all. Sokka, on the other hand, would probably lose his head.” She sighed softly. “You’re right. It’s probably not a good idea.” She bundled her parka tightly around her.

Suddenly, she stopped short. “Why you…!” she began to storm.

“What? What’d I do?” he demanded, startled.

“You’re a Firebender! Why on earth did we go through all that last night if you could have just made a fire?”

“You didn’t exactly give me the chance, did you? Between demanding we share the blanket and hitting me!”

Katara fumed a few more moments, then suddenly burst out laughing. “Okay, you’re right,” she conceded. “I was a little… moody last night, and I apologize. I guess I was too tired to think of your Firebending then.”

And that was it. She was ready to go. She stood by the mouth of the cave, and looked back over her shoulder at Zuko. He sat, sulking, on what remained of the bedding. Smiling softly, she turned back and came to him. As she approached, he leapt to his feet to greet her. He took her in his arms at once, throwing her off guard, and leaned down for one last kiss. She avoided his lips and drew his head down further to plant a tender kiss on his forehead.

“Take care of yourself,” she said warmly. “Don’t let any more girls punch you in the face, okay?”

He didn’t smile, he didn’t say goodbye, he just sat down again and turned away. Katara’s smile faded.

“Goodbye, Zuko.”

It was several minutes before he looked back over his shoulder. When he was sure she was gone, he gathered up the blanket and inhaled deeply.

*****

The air was colder than usual, even for the high elevation, but that didn’t stop Sokka from leaning over Appa’s side, and scanning the glaringly bright ground for any sign of blue.

“Hey, I think I see her!” Aang crowed. “Appa, yip yip!”

The flying bison circled lower, coming to a relatively gentle landing next to a waving Katara.

“Sokka! Aang!” she cheered. She ran up Appa’s tail and tackle-hugged them both. “It’s so good to see you! That was the longest night of my life!”

“Why, what happened?” Sokka asked.

“Oh, um… you know, just worrying about you guys and trying to find a place to wait out the storm.”

Sokka gagged a little. “Man, you smell like soot, Katara! What’d you do, sleep in your campfire?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“We found some signs that Zuko might be in the area,” he continued, a little more tensely. “Maybe we should look for him.”

“Let’s not bother,” his sister quickly said. “I just want to get out of here.”

“Yeah, okay,” he consented.

“Yip yip!”

As they rose into the air, Aang looked over his shoulder. He noticed the purplish red mark on Katara’s neck, half hidden under the thick fur trim of her hood. There was something she wasn’t saying, but he knew it was up to her to say whatever it was when she was good and ready.

*****

Iroh drank deeply from his tea. It was jasmine tea, and the fragrance both relaxed the body and enhanced the flavor. He thought briefly about his nephew. There were no worries that the boy wouldn’t survive last night’s blizzard. He was strong and brave and smart, and too stubborn to die from too much wind and snow.

A rustling amongst the bamboo caused Iroh to look up. Zuko came marching through, a rolled blanket on his back. There, you see?

“Zuko!” he beamed. “Come, have a nice cup of tea!”

“Oh, _there_ you are,” Zuko grumbled. There was something different about him.

“Zuko, did you hit your head last night?”

“Why?” the boy reflexively brought up a hand to touch his face.

“It looks like you have a bit of a bruise under your right eye.”

“Must be a trick of the light.”

Zuko threw down the rolled blanket and sat on it. Iroh passed him a cup of tea, which he looked at for a long time. Time passed. Iroh listened to a bearded meadowlark and watched his nephew. After a long moment, and a deep draught of tea, he spoke.

“So, who is she?”


End file.
